Steampunk! Steampunk! Steampunk!
I thought that might get you reading...
Do checkout Captain Robert's Livejournal, he has a youtube link to their TV broadcast--it is le funn and quite shiny. Watch and be amazed.
I'm debating how to steampunk my rucksack--I realize that it is (whispers) nylon...however, it is old and battered, which...well, I might just start tacking on leather and brass until satisfied. I need to order one of those bags full of gears (I'd prefer to hunt for them clock by clock--but some of those clocks are quite pretty--and I've got that problem dismantling shiny things--and besides that, I know I shouldn't be saying this because time is really just a construct, but...I don't have the time). At the moment, anyway. Hopefully, once courses end for that brief month in the summer (a summer during which I might be employed for the reunion-stuff at campus--woo, nightwatch)before summer courses actually start up.
Those should be enjoyable...though.
---
“Ban that Boogie Sound:
Music, Radical Islamists, and the West.”
Thanks once again to Joe Strummer, I might have an idea for that nagging Islam paper. I’m going to look into it, though.
--
Monday night:
Rain makes the city below me grey. Not the steel-grey one can appreciate, nor the black one comes to fear living in these parts. No, just the grey of a soaked and slumbering city.
And here I am, above most of it. Still attempting to work, now from a perch in the thirteenth floor of the library. My floor, it seems, as it appears to be utterly devoid of life--at least in this area. My quadrant, then. Hopefully whatever always resides up here leaves me alone. I just don’t want to deal with it/that/them today. I never do, but…not now, not tonight.
I’m posting this nowish. So. Keep an eye to the blogosphere and such.
Tah from South Bend,
Robinson.
Monday Afternoon:
Mmm. (Sings something by the Mamas and the Papas.) I just woke up. Yes, I realize that it is around two thirty in the afternoon, but…well, I’m enjoying what might pass as an Easter break. It, indeed, passes muster as a break, having all the necessary qualifications--otherwise known as rest and recuperation. I am most definitely rested, and as recuperated as I’m likely to be. So…yeah, onward and upward, I suppose. Or at least onward in a slightly vertical direction.
“To the airships!” And all that. Despite some of my last entries, one of which contained the bare bones of an argument which might form its way into an essay and perhaps even an article or mock-scholarly monograph to be submitted for publishing--I still am in favor of airships as opposed to fixed-wing aircraft. It is only that I think steampunk, steampunkery, and steampunks should remember that there is more to steampunk than airships. I’m not going to continue ranting on that until I’ve finished, or at least made a passable go at, that piece, though. I think in this instance I’ll take Eric’s advice about not putting something into print (or in this case, electronic release) until I’ve got it good and settled as to exactly what it is.
Perhaps lacking the internet has had some benefits--perhaps I have not wasted as much time as I did before. Perhaps…but it is sure a convenient way to stay in touch with the most wonderful, wonderful people. I suppose Eco was right when he commented on America’s need to rush about and use the most rapid means of communication. Perhaps it stems from something in our collective consciousness that still tells America it is only a colony of the West--perhaps it is that which drives us in an attempt to tell the rest of the world “we are modern and civilized as well.” I wonder if the rest of the world believes this claim, I wonder if ‘we’ believe it. Either way, I need to get some serious work done, we are talking back-breaking, serious, intensive work. And I rather need to get it done tonight, having spent the weekend studying other subjects which simply kept my attention wonderfully rapt.
It is now, looking at my pocket watch, sometime past 4:16 PM.
Industrial revolution: science show--how X improves farmer-factory-small business owner (I)’s life. Steampunk bent.
Now, however, I need to actually pay the butcher’s bill and work. Buckle down. Speaking of buckles: my new boots came in. I’m going out to pick them up tomorrow. While this might not seem like a big victory for the blogosphere, I count it as a personally victory, considering I ordered the boots in, oh, January. (Mutters). Anyway, that should make tomorrow, also a nice day due to there being no Islam (yes, every religion officially disappears for one day a year--actually, Asma is out of town.)--though I still have a pressing deadline in that class, a deadline which I have yet to even begin working towards. My head feels like it is going to explode due to a combination of that weird and annoying fever (a product of a weird and downright aggravating infection) and the lovely South Bend concept of spring (which is apparently just sick and twisted shifts in the barometric pressure--which in turn affect my sinuses to a rather unpleasant degree).
On the upside, I am listening to the Ramones(“I just wanna have something to do” is one of my favorite songs. The cover version by the Donnas is pretty damned good as well, if you are looking for new/old music to listen to.). And I like the Ramones. I’m downright jealous of all those who are out on the West coast and get to go to the Abney Park concerts that are out that way--I realize jealousy is not something that becomes anyone, especially not steampunks, but…well, Abney Park needs to play in very nice Midwestern venues like Chicago and South Bend. Especially South Bend. Even though there are only, what, six or seven steampunks that I know of in the city. It is a nice town, and the six or seven of us would definitely plaster all of it in posters and other things touting the event. Speaking of events to tout, we (being the begoggled masses of the Bend and environs) need to organize a steampunk fieldtrip to the Shed(d?) Aquarium in Chicago. Perhaps with a stop off at the Field Museum as well (I get the Field and Science/Industry Museum confused--whichever one is next to the aquarium). the Science and industry museum reminds me: Abney Park needs to play there, in front of a large steamengine or some such...at night...I'd sell a kidney (not one of mine) to see that. I’m thinking some time in late May (as, well, I have classes starting June 23rd (and while this gives us most of June to play around with…getting things done early is sometimes the best way to ensure that they actually get…ya know, done.)). If anyone with contacts in the Chicago steampunk community (I’m sure there must be one), could…contact them and forward some information about the 5th ER and our designs their way…that would be appreciated. The more steampunks make it the aquarium on d-day, h-hour, the less chance we have of getting clapped in irons. Not that they still have irons in Chicago, though we might be intercepted by a Mountie and a streetwise detective. Okay, so I’ve been watching a bit too much Due South. Never mind, there is no such thing as too much Due South. I’ve got the first three seasons if anyone wants to borrow them--they are pretty spiffy and shiny like, and, I’ve found, a great diversion from studying and things which, while they might actually need doing, are not at all what I would call fun. As such, they should be avoided for as long as possible. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what college has taught me. How to procrastinate. Well, that, and…perhaps, how to write. Though I’d attribute most of that not to the auspice of college as a whole monumental thing, but rather to the remarks of a certain Brother Philip Smith at HCrux. So…yeah. I’m going to attempt to work now, as I’ve been…well, rather obviously, hiding from that odious thing all weekend. Well, perhaps all weekend is not the right word: I worked quite industriously in the better parts of most of afternoons. I’ve realized that is when I am at my mental best, usually from four until six, after a nap or otherwise sort of siesta. Not that you needed to know that, just in case you were curious--I’ve noticed that it has shifted from very late at night (when I’ve actually been sleeping of late) to a more reasonable time--well, reasonable in as far as doing any work at any time of the day can be seen as reasonable. [8]-D.
But, really…I should be off. So: Robinson AWAY!
--
Sunday afternoon:
So, here I am. Here. Slightly cold, probably due to a fever which has been lingering around for the last week. The last week…has been. That is really all I can say about it, it has existed. I would not have gotten through that brief spate of existence without the constant help and love of an amazing woman. So, here I am, kept warm by her love.
--
Saturday afternoon:
Apparently, describing Randal Terry (Premier fuckhead) as the premier fuckhead can be seen as insulting and inflammatory. Oops. He just…well, needs to get a real job and stop profiting off dead fetuses.
So, I’m thinking about staging a counter-protest, not because I throw my utter support behind Obama (or any politician--but that’s just natural distrust of anything in a three piece suit), but because I hate Randal Terry and all that he stands for. I realize that hate is a strong word, often bandied about for little or no reason, but…in this case it is the perfect term. Now my perfect idea of a counter-protest would involve directional mines and loads of nails, but since I seem to be out of nails…I’m thinking about bringing out the standard when next the protestors emerge. So, I’ll be hauling that around in my backpack for the next while.
The weekend so far has been wonderful. On top of that I managed to get one paper mostly finished. Now I just need to check it for inadvertent plagiarism from the notes I based it on. I’m still working on the other two pressing assignments, but…I’ve got one thing hopefully nailed down, so…that is good. Again with the hopefully. Dreams have not been kind to me of late: try a night full of dreams of death, all…very graphic. And graphic in the sense of waking up screaming. Then again, I suppose that is nothing new, which is rather unfortunate. But at least what sleep I do manage to get in between the mind-freezing terror is nice. Very nice. Very, very…restful, for the first time in the week.
Today is such a nice day, I would love to spend it outside--but thanks to antibiotics which make sunshine rather uncomfortable and allergies which hate nature…not so much luck.
-
“I’m going to bury you alive…
next to my house so I can hear you screaming.”
-I heard this whilst watching Season Two of Angel this afternoon...and...well, it amuses me, so...there it is.
-
http://www.cracked.com/craptions/craption/1183/
My favorite one of these is probably the beer-run comment…but the ‘six months of war.’ is a close second.
Books ye might want to look into: in no particular order.
-Steampunk. By Jeff Vandermeer.
City of Saints and Madmen (Vandermeer)
the steampunk trilogy (Paul Di Filipo)
The Difference Engine (Gibson and Sterling)
Hollow Earth (Rudy Rucker)
Whitechapel Gods (S.M. Peters)
Perdido Street Station, The Scar, Iron Council--all by China Mieville (the first two books are worth paying full price for- PSS being a combination of...Lovecraft, Gibson, and Dickens, and the Scar being really spiffy. Iron Council is worth checking out at a library or some such.)
Anubis Gates (Tim Powers)
The one thing I will say about PSS is that it is a little dark, and will leave you with a feeling of having been covered in grime and vapor...still it is an amazing read. Check out Unhallowed Metropolis (it is a steampunk-horror RPG--I've got a copy of it if you want to take a look at it).
Wednesday, 10:52 AM
I ended up crawling into bed earlier than usual last night, perhaps due to the soporific effect of the antibiotics I on, perhaps due to exhaustion, most probably a combination of those two factors and a few others I might have neglected. Before I slept, however, I read a most wonderful book filled with essays about Rudyard Kipling as viewed by contemporaries. This book, a gift from the most amazing woman in the world, made me realize that something seems to be missing from modern literature--perhaps it is the accessibility of the author. Probably, though, it is a combination of things--as it would seem authors are more “accessible” nowadays due to the wonders of the internet--but that does not seem to be the same as an essayist going to visit Rudyard Kipling at his country home in Sussex. Perhaps because Rudyard Kipling, country homes, and Sussex have changed massively in the eighty years since the book was written.
---
Do checkout Captain Robert's Livejournal, he has a youtube link to their TV broadcast--it is le funn and quite shiny. Watch and be amazed.
I'm debating how to steampunk my rucksack--I realize that it is (whispers) nylon...however, it is old and battered, which...well, I might just start tacking on leather and brass until satisfied. I need to order one of those bags full of gears (I'd prefer to hunt for them clock by clock--but some of those clocks are quite pretty--and I've got that problem dismantling shiny things--and besides that, I know I shouldn't be saying this because time is really just a construct, but...I don't have the time). At the moment, anyway. Hopefully, once courses end for that brief month in the summer (a summer during which I might be employed for the reunion-stuff at campus--woo, nightwatch)before summer courses actually start up.
Those should be enjoyable...though.
---
“Ban that Boogie Sound:
Music, Radical Islamists, and the West.”
Thanks once again to Joe Strummer, I might have an idea for that nagging Islam paper. I’m going to look into it, though.
--
Monday night:
Rain makes the city below me grey. Not the steel-grey one can appreciate, nor the black one comes to fear living in these parts. No, just the grey of a soaked and slumbering city.
And here I am, above most of it. Still attempting to work, now from a perch in the thirteenth floor of the library. My floor, it seems, as it appears to be utterly devoid of life--at least in this area. My quadrant, then. Hopefully whatever always resides up here leaves me alone. I just don’t want to deal with it/that/them today. I never do, but…not now, not tonight.
I’m posting this nowish. So. Keep an eye to the blogosphere and such.
Tah from South Bend,
Robinson.
Monday Afternoon:
Mmm. (Sings something by the Mamas and the Papas.) I just woke up. Yes, I realize that it is around two thirty in the afternoon, but…well, I’m enjoying what might pass as an Easter break. It, indeed, passes muster as a break, having all the necessary qualifications--otherwise known as rest and recuperation. I am most definitely rested, and as recuperated as I’m likely to be. So…yeah, onward and upward, I suppose. Or at least onward in a slightly vertical direction.
“To the airships!” And all that. Despite some of my last entries, one of which contained the bare bones of an argument which might form its way into an essay and perhaps even an article or mock-scholarly monograph to be submitted for publishing--I still am in favor of airships as opposed to fixed-wing aircraft. It is only that I think steampunk, steampunkery, and steampunks should remember that there is more to steampunk than airships. I’m not going to continue ranting on that until I’ve finished, or at least made a passable go at, that piece, though. I think in this instance I’ll take Eric’s advice about not putting something into print (or in this case, electronic release) until I’ve got it good and settled as to exactly what it is.
Perhaps lacking the internet has had some benefits--perhaps I have not wasted as much time as I did before. Perhaps…but it is sure a convenient way to stay in touch with the most wonderful, wonderful people. I suppose Eco was right when he commented on America’s need to rush about and use the most rapid means of communication. Perhaps it stems from something in our collective consciousness that still tells America it is only a colony of the West--perhaps it is that which drives us in an attempt to tell the rest of the world “we are modern and civilized as well.” I wonder if the rest of the world believes this claim, I wonder if ‘we’ believe it. Either way, I need to get some serious work done, we are talking back-breaking, serious, intensive work. And I rather need to get it done tonight, having spent the weekend studying other subjects which simply kept my attention wonderfully rapt.
It is now, looking at my pocket watch, sometime past 4:16 PM.
Industrial revolution: science show--how X improves farmer-factory-small business owner (I)’s life. Steampunk bent.
Now, however, I need to actually pay the butcher’s bill and work. Buckle down. Speaking of buckles: my new boots came in. I’m going out to pick them up tomorrow. While this might not seem like a big victory for the blogosphere, I count it as a personally victory, considering I ordered the boots in, oh, January. (Mutters). Anyway, that should make tomorrow, also a nice day due to there being no Islam (yes, every religion officially disappears for one day a year--actually, Asma is out of town.)--though I still have a pressing deadline in that class, a deadline which I have yet to even begin working towards. My head feels like it is going to explode due to a combination of that weird and annoying fever (a product of a weird and downright aggravating infection) and the lovely South Bend concept of spring (which is apparently just sick and twisted shifts in the barometric pressure--which in turn affect my sinuses to a rather unpleasant degree).
On the upside, I am listening to the Ramones(“I just wanna have something to do” is one of my favorite songs. The cover version by the Donnas is pretty damned good as well, if you are looking for new/old music to listen to.). And I like the Ramones. I’m downright jealous of all those who are out on the West coast and get to go to the Abney Park concerts that are out that way--I realize jealousy is not something that becomes anyone, especially not steampunks, but…well, Abney Park needs to play in very nice Midwestern venues like Chicago and South Bend. Especially South Bend. Even though there are only, what, six or seven steampunks that I know of in the city. It is a nice town, and the six or seven of us would definitely plaster all of it in posters and other things touting the event. Speaking of events to tout, we (being the begoggled masses of the Bend and environs) need to organize a steampunk fieldtrip to the Shed(d?) Aquarium in Chicago. Perhaps with a stop off at the Field Museum as well (I get the Field and Science/Industry Museum confused--whichever one is next to the aquarium). the Science and industry museum reminds me: Abney Park needs to play there, in front of a large steamengine or some such...at night...I'd sell a kidney (not one of mine) to see that. I’m thinking some time in late May (as, well, I have classes starting June 23rd (and while this gives us most of June to play around with…getting things done early is sometimes the best way to ensure that they actually get…ya know, done.)). If anyone with contacts in the Chicago steampunk community (I’m sure there must be one), could…contact them and forward some information about the 5th ER and our designs their way…that would be appreciated. The more steampunks make it the aquarium on d-day, h-hour, the less chance we have of getting clapped in irons. Not that they still have irons in Chicago, though we might be intercepted by a Mountie and a streetwise detective. Okay, so I’ve been watching a bit too much Due South. Never mind, there is no such thing as too much Due South. I’ve got the first three seasons if anyone wants to borrow them--they are pretty spiffy and shiny like, and, I’ve found, a great diversion from studying and things which, while they might actually need doing, are not at all what I would call fun. As such, they should be avoided for as long as possible. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what college has taught me. How to procrastinate. Well, that, and…perhaps, how to write. Though I’d attribute most of that not to the auspice of college as a whole monumental thing, but rather to the remarks of a certain Brother Philip Smith at HCrux. So…yeah. I’m going to attempt to work now, as I’ve been…well, rather obviously, hiding from that odious thing all weekend. Well, perhaps all weekend is not the right word: I worked quite industriously in the better parts of most of afternoons. I’ve realized that is when I am at my mental best, usually from four until six, after a nap or otherwise sort of siesta. Not that you needed to know that, just in case you were curious--I’ve noticed that it has shifted from very late at night (when I’ve actually been sleeping of late) to a more reasonable time--well, reasonable in as far as doing any work at any time of the day can be seen as reasonable. [8]-D.
But, really…I should be off. So: Robinson AWAY!
--
Sunday afternoon:
So, here I am. Here. Slightly cold, probably due to a fever which has been lingering around for the last week. The last week…has been. That is really all I can say about it, it has existed. I would not have gotten through that brief spate of existence without the constant help and love of an amazing woman. So, here I am, kept warm by her love.
--
Saturday afternoon:
Apparently, describing Randal Terry (Premier fuckhead) as the premier fuckhead can be seen as insulting and inflammatory. Oops. He just…well, needs to get a real job and stop profiting off dead fetuses.
So, I’m thinking about staging a counter-protest, not because I throw my utter support behind Obama (or any politician--but that’s just natural distrust of anything in a three piece suit), but because I hate Randal Terry and all that he stands for. I realize that hate is a strong word, often bandied about for little or no reason, but…in this case it is the perfect term. Now my perfect idea of a counter-protest would involve directional mines and loads of nails, but since I seem to be out of nails…I’m thinking about bringing out the standard when next the protestors emerge. So, I’ll be hauling that around in my backpack for the next while.
The weekend so far has been wonderful. On top of that I managed to get one paper mostly finished. Now I just need to check it for inadvertent plagiarism from the notes I based it on. I’m still working on the other two pressing assignments, but…I’ve got one thing hopefully nailed down, so…that is good. Again with the hopefully. Dreams have not been kind to me of late: try a night full of dreams of death, all…very graphic. And graphic in the sense of waking up screaming. Then again, I suppose that is nothing new, which is rather unfortunate. But at least what sleep I do manage to get in between the mind-freezing terror is nice. Very nice. Very, very…restful, for the first time in the week.
Today is such a nice day, I would love to spend it outside--but thanks to antibiotics which make sunshine rather uncomfortable and allergies which hate nature…not so much luck.
-
“I’m going to bury you alive…
next to my house so I can hear you screaming.”
-I heard this whilst watching Season Two of Angel this afternoon...and...well, it amuses me, so...there it is.
-
http://www.cracked.com/craptions/craption/1183/
My favorite one of these is probably the beer-run comment…but the ‘six months of war.’ is a close second.
Books ye might want to look into: in no particular order.
-Steampunk. By Jeff Vandermeer.
City of Saints and Madmen (Vandermeer)
the steampunk trilogy (Paul Di Filipo)
The Difference Engine (Gibson and Sterling)
Hollow Earth (Rudy Rucker)
Whitechapel Gods (S.M. Peters)
Perdido Street Station, The Scar, Iron Council--all by China Mieville (the first two books are worth paying full price for- PSS being a combination of...Lovecraft, Gibson, and Dickens, and the Scar being really spiffy. Iron Council is worth checking out at a library or some such.)
Anubis Gates (Tim Powers)
The one thing I will say about PSS is that it is a little dark, and will leave you with a feeling of having been covered in grime and vapor...still it is an amazing read. Check out Unhallowed Metropolis (it is a steampunk-horror RPG--I've got a copy of it if you want to take a look at it).
Wednesday, 10:52 AM
I ended up crawling into bed earlier than usual last night, perhaps due to the soporific effect of the antibiotics I on, perhaps due to exhaustion, most probably a combination of those two factors and a few others I might have neglected. Before I slept, however, I read a most wonderful book filled with essays about Rudyard Kipling as viewed by contemporaries. This book, a gift from the most amazing woman in the world, made me realize that something seems to be missing from modern literature--perhaps it is the accessibility of the author. Probably, though, it is a combination of things--as it would seem authors are more “accessible” nowadays due to the wonders of the internet--but that does not seem to be the same as an essayist going to visit Rudyard Kipling at his country home in Sussex. Perhaps because Rudyard Kipling, country homes, and Sussex have changed massively in the eighty years since the book was written.
---